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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718228">Here's To Us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholyfruitt/pseuds/unholyfruitt'>unholyfruitt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Gay Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholyfruitt/pseuds/unholyfruitt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alec opened the door, he was looking at Maurice, who had a wonderful expression of awe painted on his face, witnessing the wooden cottage, the bare windows, the space of the main area, the turn into what could become the kitchen, the washroom, the small storage area, and the bedroom. They envisioned the furniture, they smelled the food that would be made here, the fire burning away at the fireplace, the smoke rising out of the chimney. They saw and felt it all.<br/><br/>-----------<br/><br/>Maurice and Alec after the boathouse</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maurice Hall/Alec Scudder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Farewells & New Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> The first of September. The start of a new month, and new beginnings. A new lover. The sun rays were just starting to come through the uncovered windows, giving light to the small makeshift bed on the floor, comprised of a few woolen blankets and lopsided pillows. Maurice had his head in his hand, stabled by his elbow, looking down at Alec, still lying and starting to shake off the  </em> <em> daze </em> <em>  of slumber. Their underclothes were all this way and that from sleep and caresses, a shirt hitched up there, exposing a soft belly, or a sock half off, from rubbing feet together for warmth.  </em> </p><p><em> ‘Will you . . . show me?’ Maurice asked, momentarily breaking eye contact because of a sudden jolt of nervousness, rubbing his nail on the blanket they lay on. </em> </p><p><em> Alec smiled again, biting the inside of his lip and hoping that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t too prominent.  </em> </p><p><em> ‘ ‘ </em> <em> course.’ </em> </p><p> </p><p><em> It was Tuesday morning, the first morning in the cottage. In </em><em>their</em><em> cottage.  </em> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After spending Saturday night and all of Sunday in the boathouse, they’d set off, Maurice going to his mother’s home and then London by train to settle things with his family and pack his things, and Alec promising to find them a place and the necessities. Hurriedly, they’d put on their clothes, Maurice chiding Alec half-seriously for ripping open his shirt since his waistcoat wasn’t able to conceal it (‘I couldn’t help it, y’know! You stumble here after I’d waited the whole bleedin’ day for you to show up, ‘n expect me not to devour you right there and then!’). They parted with a sweet kiss, hands cupping cold faces with reddened cheeks, promising to meet at the station when Maurice returned from the evening train. Maurice felt warmer, more at home now in his trench coat, after it had served as a blanket for two nights and a day, sheltering him and his lover as they lay bare, sharing a passion that burned. He smiled as he half-jogged out of the estate through the hidden path, realizing he could still smell Alec from it, the perfume of the earth, of trees and wood, and finding happiness in the fact that his lover could still be near him even when away for most of the day.  </p><p>Reaching his mother’s home, Maurice felt it was distant to him, as if arriving as a guest rather than someone who had lived here. He smiled at this, too. Panic ensued in the Hall household, though lasting a relatively short interval, while Maurice quickly grabbed the telegram Alec had sent on the table ('So this was the wire,' he thought with a smile) and headed upstairs. Mrs. Hall, with her questions (well, of course, she was his mother, she had a right to worry), Kitty being surprised that her muddle-headed, by the book brother was suddenly acting so impulsive, and then ringing up Ada more to see her react rather than inform her of their brother’s action. She too came, gasping for breath after having dressed herself and telling Arthur that there was an emergency (‘Oh, dear its nothing, I promise! Just a silly little aunt of ours who’s gone quite mad it seems), and then the questions began once again. At this point, Maurice had willed himself not to get entangled in all the fuss: his family had a right to it of course, but he couldn’t let it distract him from packing, an arduous task he had to complete if he had to make it in time for the early afternoon train to London, and he didn’t let any of the servants help him (‘It’s quite alright! I can manage, thank you. No, don’t worry about Mother, just tell her I told you I didn’t need assistance’). Finally, after an hour or so of panicking while Kitty watched and drank her morning tea, Mrs. Hall and Ada came to the conclusion that at least their son and brother seemed happy, terrifically happy in fact, and more at peace than he had probably ever seen him, especially since the year began. After having packed the garments he needed, keeping in mind that Alec told him they’d get other clothes for him later on, his books and some stationery, he came back downstairs into the main sitting area. He looked upon his family, who looked back, faces poised in anticipation of a proper explanation. He took a deep breath and began. Maurice told them that he was going to quit his job in the City, that he was permanently going away to live somewhere else, to begin another profession. He told them that he was doing this to finally be happy, that he had found his true purpose.  </p><p>‘I see that darling, and I’m overjoyed for you, but I feel I must ask . . . will you spend your life alone? Is there to be no one to stay by you, give you companionship?’ asked Mother asked, twisting her handkerchief in worry. </p><p>Maurice’s eyes glinted with a faint, but noticeable shine. He couldn’t hide his smile and looked down. Kitty, the most perceptive, realized almost instantly, an all too familiar feeling striking in her heart, and suddenly she wasn’t merely a spectator in the events.  </p><p>‘Maurice . . .’ she spoke and was met by her brother’s gaze, an almost pleading stare. <em> Please, Kitty. </em>  </p><p>She understood and gave a slight nod of compassion. It was one of the only meaningful moments they had shared, and a part of her was glad that she and Maurice weren't at each other’s throats when she wasn’t going to see him again, perhaps for a very long time. She thought of her relationship with Violet Tonks, and smiled, thinking of how she and Maurice had something in common after all.  </p><p>Ada and Mrs. Hall on the other hand, didn’t understand, at least not immediately. Later on, when they did, as Maurice slowly revealed his companion through his letters, all they felt was a loving glow of happiness, for their loved one was content. Mrs. Hall, specifically, felt almost overjoyed to tears, thinking of her dear husband and how times had changed, how their son <em> was </em> like his father, but in other ways, in ways of courage, was utterly unlike him.  </p><p>Chapman, they decided collectively, was to be told that his college chum and brother-in-law had gone 'far, far away to revolutionize stockbroking.’ He had no doubts. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>While Maurice packed and consequently hurried to the City, Alec was speeding (as much as one can speed in a horse-cart, anyway) in the heart of Wiltshire, to a town where he knew a particular woman, who owned a particular cottage deep in the woods. After slipping out of the estate unnoticed and with his luggage that he had brought to the boathouse on Saturday (unbeknownst to his family who thought it was on the Normannia with theirs), he walked to the nearby village, borrowing a horse-cart from his Da’s old acquaintance (‘Just need it to make a simple delivery! I promise I’ll have it back to you by late afternoon’). He hoped the old tailor wouldn’t try to confirm it with his Da, who would probably be in Osmington anyhow, but still, telegrams could be sent. He set off in the direction of central Wiltshire, pondering over how he ought to visit his family, give his apologies and all that for making them get off the SS Normannia and waste their money and time. He felt a touch of guilt, coupled with the desire to keep all the hysterics to a minimum, which wouldn’t exactly happen if he went to his family. He finally decided that after he and Maurice settled down, he’d send a letter to them, explaining the matter while leaving out the most important thing, obviously (‘I’ll just say I believed woodcutting was more suited to me than whatever Fred had for me in the Argentine. And sod ‘em if they get angry’). </p><p>By the time he reached the place where the woman lived, the sun was high up, making Alec discard his coat and waistcoat at the back of the cart. Her name was Beatrice, and she resided with her son, whom Alec had known growing up. He had become acquainted with Beatrice first when he was but eighteen, when he was desperately searching for a place where he could live due to a quarrel with his parents. Somewhere far away from people, among the woods. The woman had then told him that she had ownership of a small cottage, built by a gentleman she had worked for, who had passed it on to her for helping him in the last years of his life while he fought an illness. She had warned him then that it had no electricity, no furniture, that he would likely have to coexist with deer and foxes, and that it was an hour’s cart-ride away from the nearest town. Alec had considered it back then, but the family dispute was solved soon enough, and thoughts of running away had been buried deep temporarily.  </p><p>Beatrice still looked the same, despite the years having passed since Alec last saw her. He greeted his old friend, after which Beatrice sent him to bring out tea, with Alec refusing, not wanting to impose.  </p><p>‘Don’t be silly, stupid lad!’ and then, in a lower voice after looking around, ‘I sent ‘im ‘cause I know why you’re here.’ </p><p>Alec swallowed. ‘You do?’ </p><p>‘ ‘Course! What, you think I’ve forgotten?’ she laughed heartily, causing Alec to chuckle as well. ‘I din’t know Old Scudder was still picking fights wi’ his own lad! But good for you, all the same.’ </p><p>‘Well, the thing is, that’s only part of the reason.’ </p><p>‘Eh?’ came the reply. Alec couldn’t tell if the woman was hard of hearing or just in disbelief. </p><p>‘I mean, I suppose me and Da <em> have </em> fought, or probably will soon, but I want to go away ‘cause . . .’ he smiled bashfully, thinking of how to word the developments over the past few days. </p><p>Beatrice initially was lost, waiting for Alec to complete his sentence, but then her eyes widened and he knew she understood. </p><p>‘Y’don’t mean to say . . . you’ve found someone?’ </p><p>‘Well . . . yes. You see, me and the family actually had to go to the Argentine, I’m not sure you knew, and I . . . decided not to go. I wanted to stay behind.’ He beamed. </p><p>‘Now that you say it lad, I do think Old Fitzherbert mentioned it in passing . . . but nevermind all that! I’m right proud of you Alec, going on to be a romantic!’ She celebrated. ‘One thing I must ask, though,’ she began, lowering her voice and looking around for her son once again, ‘have you got yourself a lad like yourself or a lady?’ </p><p>Alec blushed crimson. He had indeed forgotten that Beatrice knew he wasn’t only attracted to women. <em> Another teenage confession </em>, he thought, wanting to throttle his younger self. Still, Beatrice was a good person, and wouldn’t have thought him evil or sinful.  </p><p>‘It’s . . . a man.’ </p><p>‘Splendid, splendid! Someone I migh’ know of?’ </p><p>Alec smiled and then shook his head. ‘Not really.’ </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>By mid-afternoon, Maurice had settled all his accounts, given a quick explanation to Hill and his other colleagues to put off any inquiries, and told them that all his money in the bank, save for a hundred pounds, was to be for his family, including Chapman, and whatever children his sisters may or may not have. He withdrew the hundred pounds in cash (‘This’ll help Alec and me for the first few weeks at least’), and set off with a huge sigh, feeling like the chains of an endless job had finally burned off, and he was, at last, his own man. Alec, many miles away, finalized the terms with Beatrice, promising to pay a fixed sum each month until the cottage would fully be his. The necessary papers were handed to him, along with the keys and many congratulations, and he too set off to first see the cottage that was further on, return the cart back to the tailor in the first town, and then buy a second-hand bicycle ('We'll need something to get to that town near the cottage Beatrice told me about, n' we'll get another bicycle later on') and travel to the station where he would meet Maurice. Since Maurice had time till the evening train, he went to a store and bought a few refreshments, some chocolates and biscuits, while Alec rode off to what would be his and his lover’s new home. Powered by excitement and giddiness, he reached the specified dirt path, surrounded by trees. He recalled that Beatrice had told him to ‘step right into the trees, and there you’ll find it,’ and surely when he got off the cart and walked into the dense foliage, he saw a small cottage a few ways ahead, tall grass all around, a stream passing by, and nestled between trees that kept out the harsh light of the sun, except for a few rays that shone as if from heaven itself.  </p><p> </p><p>The evening train arrived, and Alec looked for his awaited lover amid the passengers that disembarked, his shoulder bag a little heavier since it had an extra pair of clothes that he got from a store (‘You sure this’ll fit someone tall? He’s quite tall, the man I’m buying for’), and his suitcases already safely deposited at the cottage. He craned his neck and finally saw Maurice, face flushed from the heat of the day, taking off his hat to reveal blond hair that was no longer neatly pressed back, but curled from the moisture and resting on his temple. Alec couldn’t hide his smile.  </p><p>‘Hello,’ he said, walking over to him, joy overtaking him as he knew that this, this is where it was all really beginning. </p><p>‘Hello,’ replied Maurice, holding his own two suitcases and hat tucked between fingers, replying to Alec’s smile with his own.  </p><p> </p><p>In a lavatory, Maurice changed garments, donning corduroys, a cotton shirt, shoes, and braces, all being a perfect fit, feeling as though he was finally stripping himself of the clothes that had been imposed on him since he had become an adolescent, foregoing the suffocating presence of the collared white shirt and choking tie. From then on, Alec hailed a horse-cart, and the pair traveled to their new home, amidst suitcases and the bicycle, sharing the chocolates and biscuits that Maurice bought, as well as the bread and cheese that Alec had gotten from a store beforehand. The sun had begun to sink low, and Maurice dozed off, sufficiently tired from the activities of the day, while Alec let his eyes look on the passing trees and plains. When he knew they were near, he stopped the driver, paid him for the trouble, and the lovers stepped off.  </p><p>When Alec opened the door, he was looking at Maurice, who had a wonderful expression of awe painted on his face, witnessing the wooden cottage, the bare windows, the space of the main area, the turn into what could become the kitchen, the washroom, the small storage area, and the bedroom. They envisioned the furniture, they smelled the food that would be made here, the fire burning away at the fireplace, the smoke rising out of the chimney. They saw and felt it all.  </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Things Always Go Better Under a Woodcutter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Tuesday morning, their first morning in the cottage.  </p><p> </p><p>Maurice’s eyes opened, feeling that familiar warmth near him, the warmth of his lover. His face was covered by the blanket since it had gotten colder deep in the night, and all that could be seen was the dark head of hair, curls falling over the faded white of the pillow (‘I packed some o’ these and blankets when I left the boathouse on Saturday,’ he’d said cheekily). After a little while, the being shifted, and arms raised out of the blankets in a long stretch, and a well-rested, satisfied yawn was heard. Alec turned, laying on his back rather than his stomach, pulled down the blanket, and looked at Maurice, who was watching him and gave a soft smile. </p><p>‘Mornin’,’ said Alec, eyes not quite open, but a grin already spreading.  </p><p>‘Morning,’ replied Maurice. </p><p> </p><p>Outside, birdsong emanated from the trees, the faint sound of the stream going by. The wooden floor creaked as Maurice changed his position to bring up a certain question. </p><p>‘Say, Alec,’ he began, swallowing anxiously. </p><p>‘Yeah?’ Alec scratched his chin, the light stubble he had shaved beginning to grow back. </p><p>Maurice shifted, thinking how he would phrase what he would say next. </p><p>‘I was wondering . . . could I . . I mean, would it be nice if . . .’ </p><p>Alec looked up at Maurice. </p><p>‘ . . . if I made love to you?’ </p><p> </p><p>The first of September. The start of a new month, and new beginnings. A new lover. The sun rays were just starting to come through the uncovered windows, giving light to the small makeshift bed on the floor, comprised of the few woolen blankets and two pillows. Maurice had his head in his hand, stabled by his elbow, looking down at Alec, still lying and starting to shake off the daze of slumber.  </p><p>‘It would be very nice,’ Alec replied slowly, in a lowered voice. </p><p>‘Will you . . . show me?’ Maurice asked, momentarily breaking eye contact because of a sudden jolt of nervousness, rubbing his nail on the blanket they lay on. </p><p>Alec smiled again, biting the inside of his lip and hoping that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t too prominent.  </p><p>‘ ‘course.’ </p><p> </p><p>Maurice beamed shyly, looking up and then down again, eyelashes quivering. Alec’s smile stretched, and he felt a warm tenderness in his chest, his face flushed. He slowly took the blanket from underneath and raised it, folding it to the other side so that both he and Maurice lay uncovered. Their underclothes were all this way and that from sleep and caresses, a shirt hitched up there, exposing a soft belly, or a sock half off, from rubbing feet together for warmth. Alec took Maurice’s trembling hand and put it to his face. </p><p>‘Kiss me,’ he whispered. So he did. It was chaste at first, but then Alec urged Maurice deeper with a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing a thumb on his hot ear, and he slipped a tongue inside. Alec began to suck on it, and as Maurice drew back in momentary surprise, Alec kissed it and licked it with his own tongue, catching Maurice’s eyes. Maurice’s face felt warmer and he swallowed.  </p><p>‘Do what you would want me to do to you,’ Alec said, his lips glinting with saliva. </p><p>Maurice nodded slightly. They continued kissing, Maurice caressing Alec’s face, digging his fingers into his hair and giving soft tugs, his legs beginning to entwine with Alec’s, and a knee inching upwards along the other’s limb.  </p><p>‘Everyone has . . . a sensitive spot . . .’ said Alec in between kisses, pulling his shirt up to his underarms, ‘and mine are these.’ He put Maurice’s hands on his nipples, pressing them there as he breathed shakily.  </p><p>Maurice felt the warm skin, the tender brown, and rubbed them with his thumbs. He felt a bit stupid at not knowing this fact about his lover, even after spending those two gorgeous nights at the boathouse, making love and talking about their lives and being bare in every way. Then again, he thought, Alec didn’t prefer to be vulnerable like this. To be open and pure and raw and let himself be loved and made love to. The thought of Alec being that way with Maurice, not only allowing him but directing his hands to his most erotic spot made him feel proud, made him feel happy, and he pressed his lips together and smiled, utterly in love.  </p><p>Alec closed his eyes and shuddered with arousal, his lover’s touch sending jolts of electricity throughout his body, making him want, making him need<em> .  </em>His arms were raised up to the sides of his head, willingly submissive and yielding. Seeing Alec like this made Maurice desire for more, his erect cock pushing the fabric of his underclothes and moistening where it pressed, and he moved a little so that the friction wouldn't be painful.  </p><p>‘Hn . . . oh . . Maurice . . . oh <em> fuck </em> . . .’ </p><p>Maurice rubbed harder, firmer, his mouth slightly open in awe, not losing sight of Alec’s face and his expressions of pleasure, the eyes clamped shut and part of his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his moans escaped from the corner. </p><p>‘Put your mouth . . .’ Alec mumbled, breathing heavily. </p><p>Maurice didn’t need to hear the rest, moving his hands to the sides of Alec’s torso and replacing them with his lips, putting the right nipple in his mouth and sucking tenderly, his erection now pressed against Alec’s hips. Alec whimpered, the most beautiful sound to Maurice, who moved on to the other nipple and sucked, kissing the chest, holding his lover’s body close. He glanced down at Alec’s crotch, the length of his cock being more than evident, his tip straining against his garments. Moving down, Maurice slid his hands to Alec’s waist, pulling his underclothes off so that his legs were uncovered.  </p><p>Maurice sat up, reveling in the sight. Alec, naked except for his shirt that was pulled up to expose his chest, his stimulated nipples, red marks starting to appear where Maurice had sucked and kissed and teased his body, his prick unabashedly erect, his legs slender and begging to be gripped and held apart. Maurice licked his chapped lips, and Alec caught him staring, his eyes shining and dark. Still holding the stare, Alec opened his legs, showing his erection in all its erotic glory, thighs gleaming with sweat. Maurice felt a deep pang in his stomach, as if a red-hot poker had moved around within, and took Alec’s cock in his mouth. Alec moaned loudly, holding Maurice’s head, heart beating violently in his crotch, his legs, his . . . </p><p>Knowing how close Alec was, Maurice drew back, the salty taste of pre-cum and sweat lingering in his mouth, running his tongue all over and swallowing. He looked up as he hitched one of Alec’s legs upwards, one knee halfway to his chest.  </p><p>‘Should I . . . your . . .’ </p><p>Alec nodded impatiently, and Maurice was about to put his forefinger in his mouth, but Alec took hold of his hand, put it to his own mouth and sucked it with ardor, sloppily, and doing the same with the middle finger. Maurice felt his cock throb harder, and thought he was going to faint. Alec released his hand and Maurice slowly slipped the wet fingers into his groove, into the tight, hot muscle of his anus. Alec grabbed the blankets beneath him, gasping as he felt Maurice’s fingers moving inside, spreading warmth, stretching him.  </p><p>‘Oh . . . Maurice . .’ Alec moaned. Maurice began stroking a particular spot inside, exploring what made his lover whimper in pleasure and become more aroused.  </p><p>‘I want . . .’ </p><p>‘Yes?’ Maurice breathed. </p><p>‘ . . you . . . please . . just . . . ah . .’ </p><p>‘What, darling?’ Maurice moved his fingers faster. </p><p>‘Oh . . hn . . just . . . fuck me . . . I want . . need . . .’ </p><p> </p><p>Maurice smiled, his heart beating against his chest, his hair falling over his eyes and dampened with sweat, and drew out his fingers. Undoing the buttons on his lower garments, he slipped them down, his erection no longer concealed as he sighed with relief. </p><p>‘Don’t . . .’ Alec began, regaining his breath, ‘don’t take ‘em all the way off . . . only . . . down to your knees . . .’ </p><p>Maurice complied, remembering how Alec felt making love was more erotic, more passionate if done when half-clothed, thinking back to them in the boathouse. How after they had kissed and embraced, Alec laid him down and hastily took off his coat and undoing his waistcoat, ripped open his shirt, pulled down his trousers to the ankles and slipped into the gap in between while Maurice’s cock swelled in anticipation and Alec’s mouth . . . </p><p>Maurice raised his lover’s legs, pushing them towards his chest. Alec, taking them in hand, pressed them close to himself, exposing his stimulated anus, his cock pressed to his stomach as Maurice positioned himself, rubbing his wet tip on Alec a few times, before inching inside.  </p><p>Alec groaned, his hands going to Maurice’s buttocks, squeezing and pushing, urging him deeper until he was filled with him. Maurice moaned, feeling Alec’s warmth, the heat of his insides, felt him stretching Alec with his throbbing prick.  </p><p>‘Maurice . . . my sweet . .’ </p><p>‘Oh . . Alec, you’re . . . so warm, sweetheart . . .’ </p><p>Maurice began thrusting hard, his face buried in the crook of Alec’s moistened neck, and slowly slipped into a rhythm, skin slapping against skin, both moaning and caressing with eyes closed in ecstasy, whispering honeyed words, whining in pleasure. Alec felt <em> loved </em>, this gorgeous, perfect man above him, his lean body, his wet lips against his skin, kissing sweetly.  </p><p>He had been made love to before, and Maurice knew, one of the plenty things they had talked about in the boathouse, but never, <em> never  </em>like this.  </p><p>And when Maurice was close, he inched away from Alec to stroke his cock, and as his lover climaxed with a shudder, he came to his own loud orgasm, giving a few more soft thrusts as they caught their breath and whispered words of love. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>‘Simcox was right, it seems,’ Maurice thought out loud, putting a cigarette in Alec’s mouth. </p><p>Alec’s faced scrunched up in disgust at the mention, the cigarette moving up and down. ‘Don’t take that stupid oaf’s name now.’ </p><p>Maurice chuckled. ‘I remember he told me, he said, ‘things always go better under a gentleman’.’ </p><p>Alec blushed, clenching his jaw. ‘That cricket match. I can’t believe he said that, inteferin’ like that, thinkin’ he was bein’ real smart. I ought ‘o kick him right in that arse of his that no doubt has a rod innit, stupid oaf.’ </p><p>‘Didn’t he help you with me?’  </p><p>‘Mebbe,’ Alec murmured, ‘doesn’t change the fact that he’s an interferin’ oaf.’ </p><p>‘I suppose he wasn’t completely right though,’ Maurice turned to Alec. </p><p>‘Things go better under a gamekeeper too?’ Alec replied mischievously. </p><p>‘Very true, but not what I mean.’ </p><p>‘Hmm . . . things go better above a gentleman?’ </p><p>‘Alec!’ Maurice laughed, playfully nudging his lover’s leg. </p><p>‘Alright, alright, you go.’ </p><p>‘I mean . . . well, I’m not exactly a gentleman anymore. I’m just . . myself. No title, no anything, I’m just . . .’ </p><p>‘Woodcutter to-be?’ </p><p>‘Woodcutter to-be, Maurice . . .’ he smiled, and then softly added, ‘Scudder.’ </p><p>Alec felt himself blushing. ‘Maurice Scudder.’ </p><p>‘Maurice and Alec Scudder!’ Maurice bellowed, impersonating an announcer, his booming voice making Alec giggle. </p><p>‘The Scudders! Woodcutters to-be! All bow down!’  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Characters belong to E. M. Forster and Merchant Ivory, except for some OCs. Hope you enjoyed!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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